Redemption Road, Bitch
by Screamer
Summary: He escaped from Todd and his Uncle Jack's gang, but can Jesse Pinkman ever manage to pull his life back together? Update 11/17, chapters slightly restructured & 1 new chaptet
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

It was a miracle he didn't get pulled over. Or crash. With his luck, a crash would be the more likely scenario.

About three minutes after he gunned the gas pedal and broken through the gates of the Nazi's compound, Jesse Pinkman realized he had nowhere to go. He was either a wanted man, or a man presumed dead. His house, his precious house, had probably been repossessed, seized, or reverted back to his parents. If, by some miracle it hadn't, cops were probably staked outside of 9809 Margo St right now. Andrea was dead. The only two friends he had left in the world were Badger and Skinny Pete…..and the last thing he wanted to be near right now was meth.

Panicked, he drove in circles around the Albuquerque. Thoughts raced around his head. _Go get Brock. Is Mr. White dead now? Or had the cops shown up in time? Would they realize Todd's car was missing? Would they be looking for it? Was he still wanted in connection with the Heisenberg case? _The DEA agents never filed anything officially, and he knew Todd's gang had taken the tape. He'd heard them play it over and over and over again…...before they finally destroyed it. They were stupid, but not stupid enough to leave evidence like that around for long.

Hungry, scared, dazed, and shaky, Jesse continued driving, zoning out and letting the car take him wherever it would. How long had it been since he'd seen these streets? Two months? Six? Eight? It was hard to keep track of time when you spent all of your waking hours shuttered in a meth lab or hidden under a tarp.

A soft ding made Jesse look down at the dash. _Shit_. He was out of gas. And he had exactly zero dollars to his name. He threw open the glove compartment and felt around, then did the same with the center console; no luck. Todd didn't keep spare cash in his car.

He came to a stop at the next intersection, gripped the wheel and put his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes. Again, he ran through the list of possibilities and realized for the first time, he truly had no one. No friends, no girlfriend, no family, and not even Mr. White (that son of a bitch).

_Maybe he should just go to his parents? _He ran his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes and scraggly beard, then sat back up and stared at the intersection. "You gotta be fucking kidding," he muttered to himself. Out of all the stop signs in Albuquerque, he'd stopped here. At this sign. 

_REDEMPTION RD_. The letters glowed brightly against the sign, like a ghost.

_This is a bad idea, _he thought to himself. _This is a really fucking bad idea._

But it was the best one he had.

He ditched the car a few blocks away and hurried through the sleepy streets of Nob Hill, hoping no one would spot him. It was the kind of neighborhood where the street lights went out at a certain hour, as to not disturb the occupants slumbering inside the neat little houses that lined the road. Jesse still knew this neighborhood like the back of his hand; he'd spent two years in high school sneaking around these streets….and spent more than enough time wandering them since.

The blue duplex with the white trim loomed before him, looking exactly the same as it always had. The car in the driveway was different, so as a precaution he checked the name on the mailbox. _C. Preston_. She still lived here. 

Jesse slunk around the house to the back window, the one on the ground floor that looked into the kitchen. He'd spent many drunken nights in his teens and early twenties hoisting himself through this window, the keys to the front door having been locked inside or forgotten in some dive bar or club. His fingers fumbled in the dark for the latch on the side of the window. When he finally found it, the window swung neatly outwards. Jesse pushed up the screen and carefully pulled his body up through the window and into the house.

With one foot firmly on the floor, he swung his second leg over the ledge. He hit a hard object, sending something metallic cascading to the floor. _Shit_.

Jesse froze, eyes nervously darting around the room. Did he stay and take his chances, or dart back out the window and disappear into the darkness? He could hear cautious footsteps on the stairs. If he took off, there was no doubt the cops would be called. If he stayed there was a slim chance he could explain himself, that he could make her understand.

The kitchen was dark, but there was a small sliver of moonlight coming through the curtains of the dining room. Jesse saw her before she saw him. Her arms were raised over her head as she took cautious, purposeful steps, pausing for a split second before entering the kitchen.

"It's me, it's me, Jabs," Jesse rasped into the darkness, hoping she would recognize his voice and the nickname he gave her when she was sixteen. Even if the lights were on, he doubted she would recognize his face. _He_ barely recognized his face. "It's Je-"

"_Jesse?"_ A voice said incredulously, right as the kitchen overhead light switched on. Jesse flinched involuntarily as the light flooded the room, holding his ribs and steadying himself on a counter as his eyes adjusted to the light.

There stood Charlie in all her half-asleep glory, hair a mess, wearing a tank top, baggy hoodie, and shorts, a wooden baseball bat hanging at her side. She blinked rapidly, forcing her eyes to adjust to the light so she could look at the person standing in front of her.

The physical effort of hauling his weakened body over the window sill, coupled with sheer hunger, and the dizzying effect of the bright lights hit Jesse all at once. His whole body buckled, and he was forced to put his whole forearm on the counter for support. "H-h-hey, Charlie," he panted, taking in sharp breaths as the pain washed over him. "Surprise?"

Charlie's mouth dropped open in disbelief as she lowered the bat. 

"Well, _shit._"


	2. Chapter 2

It was having a ghost sitting at your kitchen table. After five years of not speaking, Jesse Pinkman was sitting at across from her, looking like he'd been through hell and back. From the look of him, a stiff drink, some coffee, a shower, a shave, clean clothes, and a good night's sleep were all in order. Unable to determine which was needed most, Charlie sat Jesse in a chair while she brewed coffee and nuked some leftover pizza. She brought both to the table with a large bottle of whiskey.

"Your choice," she said, holding up the bottle. Jesse hesitated for a second, the unscrewed the cap and watched the amber liquid flow into a bright red mug with the word ARIES blazing across the side.

"I didn't have anywhere else to go," Jesse said quietly, not meeting her eye as he gripped his cup of coffee.

"I didn't ask any questions," Charlie replied, leaning the back of her chair against the wall and blowing calmly on the steaming cup of coffee clutched in her hands.

"Yeah," Jesse grunted, taking another sip of coffee. Seconds ticked by silently.

"Thanks for not hitting me with the bat," Jesse said finally breaking the awkward heaviness in the room.

Charlie smirked slightly and turned to face him, "You woulda deserved it."

Jesse closed his eyes and nodded, "Probably." He still wouldn't look at her, and on some level, Charlie couldn't blame him. The few times he did glance her way, there was a dead look in his eyes.. His hair was greasy, dirty, and scraggly, like he hadn't had a haircut or a shower in months. Charlie opened her mouth to apologize, but changed her mind and fiddled with the handle of her coffee mug.

"Hey, yo...ya know Heisenberg?" he said, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

"Heisenberg as in the drug dealer? As in our old chem teacher?"

"Yup," he replied, taking a sip of coffee. His hand shook as he placed the cup back on the table with a loud _thunk_. " That one."

Charlie sat back up straight in her chair and leaned closer to Jesse, reaching for his hand as she spoke. "Jesse, I heard your name on the news-" she started, bringing up the topic she had tried to avoid.

Jesse cut her off. "You should turn on the TV," he said, staring into his cup of coffee. "He's dead."

Her hand stopped in mid-air, falling flatly to the table before reaching his. "_Dead?_" she asked incredulously, her eyes as wide as saucers. "Jesse, how can you possibly know that-"

He turned to her, a hard look in his eyes and repeated, "Turn. On. The. TV."

Furrowing her brow, Charlie's feet glided from the dining area to the living room, where she fumbled to find the remote in the darkness. She finally found it and clicked on the television. The blue-ish light flooded the room, giving everything an eerie glow. She switched from ESPN to one of the local news affiliates as Jesse appeared next to her in the room.

"_-once again, breaking news coming out of Albuquerque, the nationwide man hunt for notorious meth manufacturer Walter White aka 'Heisenberg' comes to an end. Police closed in on a compound earlier this evening and found White on the floor with a gunshot wound to the stomach. Efforts to revive White were unsuccessful-"_

Charlie turned to look at Jesse, who was now staring that the television blankly, "How the _hell_ could you have known about this?"

"_-several other men were found shot to death in the compound, at this time police do not believe there are any survivors. Again, Walter White aka 'Heisenberg' found dead on the outskirts of Albuquerque-"_

"Jesse?"

He took another long sip on of coffee, his eyes not leaving the screen. "I was there."

_Two years of Jesse's high school life were spent wrapped up in a girl who had gone from someone who faded into the background at the bus stop every morning to the person Jesse couldn't even contemplate living without. It all started with a joke, some stupid thing he'd said to impress his friends one morning. None of them laughed, but she snorted back a laugh and caught his eye. _

_It was over at the moment. He didn't realize it until much later, until she was gone for good, but Jesse Pinkman somehow managed to fall in love in that very instant, in the wake of that tiny snort.__  
_

_On the bus, Jesse gave up his normal spot lurking in the back of the bus with the rest of the stoners, and slid into a seat behind her, the new headphone-clad object of his affections._

_He leaned over the bus seat, "Hey, yo, you like my joke?"_

_She smirked and slid her headphones off her ears.. "It was more amusing then the crap you guys normally talk about."_

_"Yo, what's your name again? Christy?"_

_"We've been at the same bus stop forever and you didn't pick up my name?"she replied, rolling her eyes._

_"C'mon it's Christy right? CHRIS-TYYYYY!" he yelled, his voice echoing strangely off the walls of the bus._

_"Try again." She put her headphones and turned the music up, blocking him out._

_Jesse slid into the seat next to her, pushing her over to the window. He picked up one of the ears of the headphones. "C'mon, yo, tell me your name," he whispered and slinked an arm around her shoulders._

_She pulled her headphones off her ears and turned to face Jesse, an annoyed an exasperated look on her face. "If I tell you my name, will you go away?"_

_"Whatever you want."_

_"Charlie. My name is Charlie," she relented. "Now, can you just go away so I can enjoy my last few minutes of freedom in peace?"_

_"I got the first two letters," Jesse replied, standing up and walking backwards to the back of the bus. "That's gotta count for something, yo!"_

_Charlie rolled her eyes and placed her headphones back on her ears, making a show of raising the volume of her music as Jesse backed away._

_"Hey, man, why were you buggin' Charlie?" Brandon asked as Jesse plopped into the bus seat._

_Jesse shrugged and grinned. "Hey, yo, she's hot man. Think she may be next on Jesse Pinkman's list of conquests."_

_Brandon shook his head. "Good luck with that one, man. That girl hates everybody," he warned Jesse. But Jesse was too busy staring at the back of her head to pay any attention to what Brandon was saying._

After much cajoling, Charlie finally convinced Jesse to peel his eyes from the TV and take a shower. With reluctance, he'd stripped down and stepped under the warm water, let it melt all the filth and anger off his skin. He couldn't even remember when the last time he'd been privileged enough to enjoy a warm, unsupervised shower. Four months? Six?

He climbed out and dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist. The mirror above the sink was clouded over with steam. Jesse wiped it off, looking closely at his distorted face for the first time. His hair was long and lank, falling down past his ears. Scars covered his face, crisscrossing on his cheek, scratching across his nose.

"Jesse," Charlie said softly as she knocked on the door. "I-I've got some clothes. Might be a little big but-but they're clean."

Jesse heard her but said nothing, just stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes betrayed how he felt inside: dead, defeated.

"Should I...just leave them here or...?"

"You can come in." He growled, his voice sound harsh and foreign.

He was barely standing, holding on to the sink with both hands for support, when she nudged open the door. 

"Oh, _Jesse," _she murmured, lightly touching a deep purple bruise on his side. He winced and recoiled, sucking in his breath. Her brow furrowed slightly and Jesse saw a brief shadow of pain and worry flash over her face before she recomposed herself.

"Hey," he said softly, as she turned her face away. When she refused to look at him, he reached out and gently turned her chin towards him. Charlie closed her eyes as he leaned down close enough so their foreheads touched. "Hey, I'm _fine_."

"I'm fine," he assured her. They stayed that way for a few minutes, Charlie unable to look him in the eye.

"You're a lot of things, Jesse Pinkman," she said, pulling her head away and reaching into the medicine cabinet, "but fine has never been one of them."

She removed a small tube and screwed off the cap. "It's just a scar reducer," she assured him, applying the stuff liberally to the links marking his face. It was odd to have healing hands touching his face rather than one's whose sole aim to was inflict pain and punishment.

"There," she said, placing the tube back in the cabinet. She moved towards the hall, pausing for a moment in the doorway and nodding towards the stack of clothes. " Your old electronic razor's in there. Probably not sharp...but I thought you might want it."

_Chemistry made them come together, quite literally. Jesse tried for months to convince Charlie that he was worth something, that she should go out with him, but all he received were small smirks as she pushed her headphones back over her ears. _

_And then, in Mr. White's Chemistry class, they'd counted off to fifteen, randomly pairing up for that semester's major project. Jesse called out "eight" and so did Charlie._

_"Partners, yo!" Jesse said excitedly, scurrying over to her table. _

_Charlie rolled her eyes and shook her head, moving a beaker out of the way of Jesse's much too baggy sweatshirt sleeve. "Let's just get this over with, ok? Your house, after school?"_

_And the rest was less about chemistry, and more history. She'd shown up at his house and Mrs. Pinkman sent her upstairs, where Jesse was listening to music and drawing in his sketch book. He didn't even notice she was there until she spoke._

_"Is that me?" she asked, making Jesse jump. _

_"Hey, you shouldn't be sneakin' up on people like that!" he exclaimed, trying to close his sketchbook. Charlie pried it from his hands before he could stash it away._

_"Maybe if you turned down this shitty house music you would have heard me yell your name like five times," she said, dropping her bag to the floor and sitting on his bed and flipping open the sketch book._

_She was on his bed! "Yeah...well..." he had no come back for that. "...whatever."_

_"Uh huh...you still didn't answer my question, are these supposed to be me?"_

_"Um...maybe?" He offered, knowing full well the last five or six pages consisted of highly animated drawings of Charlie and Jesse. A sheepish Jesse handing a headphoned Charlie a bunch of flowers, Charlie slamming a locker door while Jesse attempted to say something funny, Charlie and Jesse wrapped around each other kissing. Mirroring real-life Charlie, the only color in the drawings was a bright red stripe of hair._

_"Is this how you see me?" she asked, studying one of the drawings closely. It was the one of them at the bus stop, Charlie in the foreground drawn to look like she was shining against a background of shapeless other people._

_"Um...yeah?" Jesse replied sheepishly. And before he knew exactly what was happening, Charlie's lips were on his._


	3. Chapter 3

They fell asleep on the couch, heads leaning towards each other and their bodies posed at awkward angles. Charlie opened her eyes, focusing in on the cable box clock. _8:30_.

Jesse snored softly beside her, twitching occasionally as he slept. The TV was still on; Jesse insisted on watching even after she suggested they go upstairs where warm, soft beds awaited. Charlie knew he was listening for his name, waiting to find out if he needed to run. Last night's breaking news had been replaced by a generic morning show. Updates on Heisenberg were relegated to the lower crawl. Charlie watched for Jesse's name but didn't see it.

She rose from the couch quickly and quietly. Jesse's head jerked slightly as her weight left the couch, but he snoozed on. Charlie crept into the kitchen, picking her cell phone up off the dining room table.

Charlie's boss was an early riser, in the office every morning by 7:30am. She dialed his number hoping he wouldn't pick up, but knowing he would. She explained away her need to stay home-there was a family emergency but she would meet today's deadlines and check her email frequently in case any emergencies popped up.

Jesse was still sleeping soundly. Charlie debated eschewing her (now late) morning run, but decided leaving Jesse alone posed little risk-even if he did get a sudden urge to take off, as he said last night, where would he go? She ran upstairs, pulled on her running gear, left a note for Jesse and headed out the door.

_Being with Charlie was like being on cloud nine. It wasn't long before she managed to sneak into his room at night, somehow climbing up a trellis on the side of the house and swinging her onto his windowsill without making any noise. It had freaked Jesse out, the first time she'd done it. He turned around and was about to scream, but she held her finger to her lips, shhhhing him as her green eyes sparkled._

___They fell asleep curled around each other most nights, Jesse waking her up early enough in the morning so she could sneak back to her own house undetected. He never figured out exactly how she managed to sneak into and out of two houses hundreds of times without being caught._

___Soon after they started dating, Jesse managed to convince his parents to buy him his first car. He picked her up every morning for school. His friends claimed he was "whipped" but he didn't care. If it were up to him, every second would be spent in her presence. just watching whatever she did._

___His borderline obsessive devotion didn't go unnoticed. _

___"Stop staring at me!" she said one day, pausing from her homework to throw a pillow at Jesse. Jesse was already high as a kite; his homework lay forgotten in the corner. _

"_I like staring at you, yo," he grinned, closing her notebook and trying to kiss her neck._

___Charlie rolled her eyes in exasperation and slammed the notebook back open, "Maybe if you concentrated less on me and more on your own homework, you wouldn't be failing what? All your classes?"__  
_

"_I'd rather study you….naked," Jesse said, sliding his hand up her shirt. They'd been dating six months and she barely let him past second base. Jesse considered this a "dry spell."_

___"You're going to have to try harder than that, Pinky," she said with a small smile as she pushed his hand away and depositing her homework back into her backpack._

___"Pinky?"_

___"Well, I am clearly The Brain in this relationship," she said, grinning and leaning over to kiss him. "See you in a couple hours."_

There was a post-it note on his forehead when Jesse's eyes finally flickered open. Even if he hadn't woken up in Charlie's house, he would have know the note was from her; she'd been leaving post it notes on his forehead since she was sixteen, convinced Jesse wouldn't notice them otherwise. He pulled the bright blue note off his forehead and read:

_Be right back…._

_DON'T GO ANYWHERE_

_PS: I put the Golden Girls on TV and hid the remote. HAVE FUN! :-)_

His lips flickered as if they were on the cusp of a smile that never appeared. Almost 10 years later and it felt like nothing had changed between them. The condo almost looked the same as it had when he was last here, almost six years ago at this point. Her stacks of books still stood in neat piles all over the living room. Her vinyl collection, which had grown considerably, was still crammed onto a bookshelf that sagged slightly under the weight. A framed poster from a Rancid concert Jesse reluctantly took her to in high school still hung on the wall behind the couch.

But the pictures, the pictures were different. Charlie's room, locker, condo …..they were always littered with pictures of her friends (and when they were dating of Jesse). The majority of those pictures had been replaced by ones of Charlie with a little girl who had preciously the same shade of dark brown hair and small button nose as Charlie. The two of them blowing out candles on a birthday cake, sitting on a horse as it was guided around a corral, laughing as they sat a pottery wheel, a dark clump of shapeless gray clay in front of them, the little girl smearing pottery clay on Charlie's nose. Next to the birthday cake photo, Jesse found a picture of himself with Charlie, her arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him close, with heads touching as they both grinned. He picked it up and felt the corners of his mouth twitch again, like he was going to smile.

The keys jiggled in the lock and Jesse hurriedly out the picture back down where he found it. He thought about lunging for the couch and pretending to be asleep, but Charlie was clearly making a lot of noise in order to inform him she was back.

"Hey," she said breathlessly as she kicked the door, and closed with her foot. Her hands were occupied holding a tray of iced coffee and a box of donuts. "Breakfast of champions!" She held up the donuts and smiled. Jesse recognized the box immediately: Rebel Donuts, the place they stopped at before school every morning.

"Thought you could use these today." She was still slightly out of breath as she deposited breakfast on the table and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. Jesse watched her as she gulped it down, amused by cut up Alkaline Trio tee-shirt she'd cut up to make a running tank top.

"_You_ run now?"

She placed the glass into the sink and splashed water on her bright red face. "I found it's easier to give up unhealthy lifestyle choices when you have something to replace them with," she replied, wiping her face with a towel. "Besides, I run like _maybe_three miles, and that's mostly so I can go to the donut shop."

She sat down at the table and stuck out her right leg; her knee was wrapped by a heavy duty brace. Jesse's eyes surveyed it warily as she undid the straps and removed it.

Charlie caught him staring. "It's just a precaution," she said, looking directly at him. "It almost never hurts anymore, mainly just on really cold nights."

Jesse shrugged and put his half eaten donut back down on the crinkled up donut bag. She picked up his favorites: a strawberry frosted topped with Captain Crunch cereal and a maple bacon bar. He spotted Charlies favorites, an apple green chile and a Boston cream, in the box as well.

"Jess, I'm not even mad about it anymore. Not even a little. Can you just eat your donut? I had them make the Captain Crunch just for you."

Jesse eyed the donut and crossed his arms.

"Don't make me force feed it to you," she threatened; he reluctantly picked up the donut and took a bite, forcing it down his throat to make her happy.

"Your name never came up on the news last night," she said casually between mouthfuls of donut.

"Great."

"You need new clothes. Those are hanging off of you."

"I'm broke," Jesse said, pushing the crumbs around the table top. Just a few months ago, he'd been a millionaire. "What month is it anyway?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Jesse saw Charlie wince at his words. "September...it's September. Your birthday's in a couple weeks," she replied softly.

"Oh."

"I have a rainy day fund that will definitely get you a couple pairs of jeans and some shirts, and a haircut," she said, crumpling up the empty donut bad and making a show of shooting it into the trash basket in the other room.

"Don't you have...like work or something?" he asked, trying to change the subject. "What do you _do_ anyway?"

"I'm a digital media marketing strategist for a small company that manages some very large accounts," she replied with an air of boredom, "I'm exceptionally good at what I do, and I am very generously compensated with a good salary and perks, one of which is the ability to work from home when I need to. Quit changing the subject, Jesse."

Jesse shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like charity, but she was right. "I don't really feel..._safe_ showing my face in public."

"Listen, I haven't asked yet, but I need to know what happened," she said seriously, playing with the straw on her iced coffee and looking Jesse directly in the eye. "I am going to go up stairs and take a shower, when I get out we're going to get your hair cut and then go to a mall, store, whatever and get you clothes and anything else you need. If you don't want to come with me, fine, I'll pick stuff out myself. But you have to wear whatever I buy."

Jesse recognized the tone Charlie was using on him and knew it was useless to argue. "Thanks," he replied quietly as she walked upstairs.

"You can trust me, Jesse," she paused on the stairs, "I'm on your side."


	4. Chapter 4

There was a knock at the door before she could even turn the shower on.

"Just a sec!" she called back, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body before opening the door and peeking around it. "What's up?"

"I want to tell you...what happened to me," Jesse said, standing awkwardly in the doorway, his hands fidgeting with a stray thread at the end of his shirt. Charlie stepped aside and let him into the bathroom. He stood just inside the doorway, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the bright bathroom lights, before sitting on the lip of the tub and hanging his head in his hands.

When he finally looked back up, Charlie saw the pain and exhaustion etched in the lines of his face. With Jesse perched on the edge of the tub and Charlie sitting on the sink, the whole story came pouring out.

Emilio and the first DEA bust. Buying the RV. Their first cook. Tuco and Gus Fring. Jane and Andrea and Brock and Tomas. The superlab and the train heist. Mike and Victor and Gale. Todd and the Neo Nazis. Working with the DEA to nab Mr. White. The final shootout in the desert and being forced to be a meth slave. The shootout and choking Todd with his hand cuffs. Once he started, it all came out in a stream of consciousness.

"So...if you want me to go..." he finished, actually looking straight at her instead of at the wall or the inside of his eye lids. His eyes were vacant and rimmed in red.

Charlie let out a deep breath. "If you want to go and start over somewhere else as someone else, I won't stop you and I won't rat you out," Charlie said evenly. "But if you want to stay here and stay Jesse Pinkman...you can stay here as long as you need to."

Jesse broke their eye contact, focusing on something or someone Charlie couldn't see, as he nodded. She hopped off the sink, reaching around him to turn on the taps. He got the hint and left the bathroom without a word.

Charlie managed to get in the shower before she started crying, hoping the pounding water would drown out her sobs. For six years, she hoped Jesse would reappear in her life. One morning, she'd walk down the stairs and find him sitting on her couch, grinning away. She didn't expect to find an unsmiling, jittery person with gashes marring his face. He could barely look and her; when he did, all she saw was pain. It everything she had in her to not cry when she looked at him.

And he'd only been back in her life for twelve hours.

"Your hair looks fine like that, anyway," Charlie assured him as they drove away from the barbershop. There was a car in the parking lot that looked identical to Todd's. Jesse froze when he saw it, adamantly refusing to get out of the car. He couldn't even explain why when Charlie asked; he just sat in the car as violent tremors overtook his body.

In that moment, he hated himself. If she had been smart, she would have called the cops as soon as he stepped foot in her kitchen last night. If he had been smart, he would have sped away from her house and removed himself from Charlie's life for good. Good things didn't happen to people Jesse Pinkman cared about.

He took out his anger on Charlie's passenger side dashboard, punching it and reveling in the sting that ran through the knuckles of his right hand.

"Hey," Charlie said, glancing over with concern while trying to keep her eyes on the road. "_Hey_, that's my car you're trying to Hulk out on!"

"Sorry," Jesse mumbled, rubbing his now bruised knuckles.

Charlie sighed as they slowed to a stop at a light, "No, I'm sorry," she said, resting her head against the wheel. "I pushed you to go out. I'll drop you off and then go just pick out whatever. It's better than what you have, right?"

Jesse remained silent the rest of the drive. He could feel Charlie's eyes sliding towards him, saw out of the corner of his eye that she was biting her lip, a tell-tale sign that she was holding back from saying what was on her mind.

They pulled into Charlie's driveway and she put the car in park before turning to him. "You need to go to the DEA. Immediately," she said.

"No." Jesse shook his violently. " . Fuck no."

"Jesse-"

"The last time I went to the fucking DEA," Jesse said, "I got sold into _fucking meth slavery_."

"That's why you need to go to them before they come looking for you."

Jesse shook his head again and started to speak, but Charlie put her hand over his mouth. He winced at her touch.

"Listen, you were in that hell hole for what? Five months? Six? How long do you think you have before they realize that you were there? A finger print, a hair, _anything_ can connect you to that scene."

"So?"

"You go to them, and you tell them exactly what you told me. Every detail you can remember, you tell them. Tell them the color of that DEA agent's shower mat if you have to. Prove to them you were cooperating in the end."

Jesse started fidgeting, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Charlie grabbed one of his hands, steadying it as she looked at him.

"This is the only way, Jesse," she told him. "You either do this, or we bust one of the windows in my house and you take off in my car. I give you a twenty minute head start before I call the cops."

Jesse stretched out his bruised knuckles, feeling the pain radiating up each finger gave him an odd sense of relief. Spitting out his whole story to Charlie, someone he trusted implicitly, was an ordeal. One he was not looking to repeat. Especially in front of several angry DEA agents in a cold interrogation room.

"You're not going in alone," she assured him. "You're gonna go there with a good lawyer and tell them everything you know-"

"You're not paying for a lawyer..." he objected.

"Who said I was paying?"

"Then how..."

Charlie glanced at him sideway and titled her head in a way that immediately gave away who she wanted to walk into the DEA's office with him.

"No," he said shaking his head again. "The last time I saw your sister, she was getting a restraining order against me."

"It's the best option," she replied with a note of pity in her voice, handing him her house key.

"Livi, I need a favor," Charlie said hurriedly, her cell phone wedged between her ear and shoulder as she backed out of the driveway.

"What now?" her sister asked with annoyance.

"I need to you walk into the DEA and represent someone, pro bono."

"What did you do?"

"Not me," Charlie replied, flipping off the driver of the car that was tailgating her. "Jesse Pinkman."

Her sister said nothing, but Charlie could practically hear her lips pursing in disapproval on the other side of the phone.

"Please tell me you met another Jesse Pinkman in the six past six years," Livi finally said.

"Livi, please. Just listen to what he has to say," Charlie begged. "I'll pay you in tacos."

"Fine," Livi replied. "Your house as soon as I leave work. One shot, that's it. If you're not there..."

"I know, I know...and Livi?"

"Yeah?"

"Please don't tell Mom and Dad, not yet."


	5. Chapter 5

Jesse did not go quietly into the DEA's office. It had taken much cajoling, and the promise of endless tacos before he agreed to go. As they walked in the building, he was shaking so badly that Livi yelled at him to get it together, lest the cops think he was detoxing. Charlie quickly grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, earning her a nasty side glance from Livi, but her hand against his seemed to steady Jesse slightly.

Charlie watched the two of them disappear down the hall, then spent over two agonizing hours sitting on a hard plastic chair in the cold waiting room of the Albuquerque DEA's office.

Jesse emerged from the DEA's office a semi-free man, sentenced to 18 months probation in return for both the information he handed over and repayment for Hank Schrader's off book handling of him months before. His trump card, the location of agents Schrader and Gomez, proved useless. Mr. White broke in to his wife's new house before going to Uncle Jacks' compound; Skyler White offered the location of her brother-in-law's body in exchange for a plea deal from the prosecutor's office.

Reluctantly, Jesse pulled out the one card he had left: the unsolved murder of Andrea Cantillo. He sobbed like a baby as he recounted watching Todd gun her down; almost an hour later, when he emerged from the interrogation room, his eyes were still red rimmed and puffy. Charlie bit her lip nervously as soon as she laid eyes on him.

Though Charlie insisted Livi was on his side, there were moment in the interrogation room when it felt more like she was once again sitting at a different table, arguing for a restraining order against him. Why had he gone along with Charlie's plan anyway? There was nothing for him in New Mexico and his name meant nothing to him anymore. He could have easily slipped away, started over somewhere new as someone new. Why go through all that agony, relieve all the pain of the last two years for nothing?

_Tacos._

Real food was a commodity at Uncle Jack's compound, the thought of tacos was the most persuasive argument for Jesse to go to the DEA. The neo-Nazi's subsisted off microwave dinners and the occasional meal from a shitty fast food joint. Even then, all Jesse got was their leftovers, some cold fries and a half eaten burger if he was lucky.

Livi, Charlie, and Jesse sat awkwardly at the restaurant, munching away in silence. Jesse and Livi argued on the drive about the fairness of his probation sentence, sending Charlie over the edge. She jerked the car to a stop on the road's shoulder, sending Livi and Jesse flying foward, and threatened to return to the townhouse sans tacos. Angered by their behavior, she consumed many margaritas at the restaurant and Livi had to drive home.

Jesse managed to mumble a thank you to Livi before disappearing into the townhouse. Charlie followed twenty minutes later, locking the door purposely behind him. She managed, after much arguing and coercing, to convince Jesse to sleep in the guest room on an actual bed.

"There," she said, smoothing out the comforter. "Much better than my busted ass couch."

"I guess," Jesse replied skeptically, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

Charlie's face fell slightly. "Well, unless you need anything else...I'm gonna go to bed." She moved towards the door quickly, avoiding Jesse's gaze as she brushed by him.

"Hey, uh, Charlie?"

She looked back.

"Uh, thanks for...for just...just thanks," he replied quietly. Charlie gave him a small nod and gestured vaguely down the hall.

"You need anything...well, I guess you know where I sleep, so..."

Before Jesse could respond, she was gone.

Falling asleep took longer than usual. Having Jesse back in her house was strange. The last time he was under her roof, the night had not ended well. Charlie stared at the ceiling for over an hour, waiting to hear Jesse's soft snores fill the narrow hallway. While she may have made a habit out of inadvertently poking him with her elbow each morning, Jesse's habit was snoring.

She spent several minutes in that hazy, half-sleep where dreams and reality start to blur. She was 19 again, freshly expelled from Berkley and using a fake ID to sneak into bars near UNM. After seeing her out for the fourth night in a row, a friend joked that Charlie was determined to wear the laminate off her ID.

_"Yo, let me buy you a drink," someone whispered in her ear._

_Grinning, Charlie turned around, ready to retort back with something clever, but the words were taken out of her mouth when she saw him._

_Jesse._

_...they were stumbling out of the bar and into Charlie's house, practically tripping up each step on their way in..._

_...she woke up with a killer headache, blurry vision, and Jesse sleeping next to her..._

_...Jesse was sitting on her couch, snorting something before they went out for the night. Charlie's class schedule for her first semester as UNM was discarded on the floor as Jesse, eyes red-rimmed and grinning, sweeped her into his arms and kissed her..._

_...they were arguing, Charlie voice growing hoarser and hoarser as she screamed at him. She was blocking the stairs, refusing to let Jesse get by. He grabbed her upper arms and tried to move her out of the way, but she stood her ground. A glint of anger in Jesse's eyes, and then all of the sudden she was falling...thump thump thump and a sickening ripping noise as she fells down the stairs and landed on the floor of the living room. _

_Clearly panicked, Jesse was running towards her, taking the steps two at a time. He crouched down next to Charlie, how was gripping her leg, trying to make the pain stop. "I should call an-"_

_"Get out!" Charlie wailed, tears streaming down her face._

_"You need to go to a doctor, yo. It looks-"_

_"Give me the phone and get out!" she screamed back, but Jesse refused to moved._

_"Get out!" she repeated, smacking Jesses's hands away from her."Get out, get out, GET OUT!"_

_Jesse slid a phone across the hardwood floor, and bolted, leaving the front door open as he fled..._

Charlie awoke with a start, as though a noise has shunted her out of the dream and back to reality.

_It's nothing._ She said to herself, running her hands over her face and taking a deep breath.

Deciding that she needed a some water, she grabbed the empty glass by her bedside table and sleepily stumbled into the hallway, not bothering to turn on the light.

And that's when she heard it, feet steadily shuffling against the floorboards of the hallway near Jesse's room.

_It's just Jesse, _she assured herself. _But what if it's not? They said all those people died, but Jesse escaped...what if someone else did too?_

Steeling herself, she flicked on the hall light. The brightness blinder her and she screwed her eyes shut, blinking them open and close quickly, forcing them to adjust.

Glassy-eyed and clearly asleep, Jesse paced rhythmically back and forth down the empty hallway.


End file.
